


Demons In Our Mind

by violentandunpopular



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Asexual Character, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Skype, rated for implications of sex and self harm and very unhealthy thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentandunpopular/pseuds/violentandunpopular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray can't stand prolonged silences on Skype with his boyfriend and he tends to think the worse. This is one of the bad times.</p><p>--</p><p>‘I feel so stupid.’ It was his last message and it stared at him from the screen as brightly as Michael’s green “online” dot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons In Our Mind

_'italics'_ are Skype messages

 _plain italics_ are thoughts, or emphasis

 

* * *

 

 

“Answer me.”

 

Ray stared without blinking at the blue and white wall of Skype, touching the keys and ready to respond. This wasn’t the first time Michael had done this. His boyfriend was 1800 miles away at his new job and this was how it was now. Maybe it was work, maybe it was the new group of friends, maybe he was just busy - but there were sometimes long stretches silence that gave him ample time to pick apart everything he’d said to his boyfriend.

 

“ _Please_ , Michael.”

 

It always led to Ray pouring out more and more words, first a joke to lighten the mood and as the silence progressed it turned into gushing apologies. Michael always came back, telling him to calm down and that everything was fine, but there was always that nagging feeling that he’d upset the other boy. Forgiving a few outbursts was one thing but they felt like they were piling up. Michael may not have been keeping score but Ray was. He knew how often he let the anxious bubbles in his stomach burst out of his lips, through his fingers, spilling poison onto his boyfriend. Sometimes it was anger but most often it was gross, goopy depressive self-depreciation that he _knew_ Michael saw and rolled his eyes at.

 

 _‘I feel so stupid.’_ It was his last message and it stared at him from the screen as brightly as Michael’s green “online” dot.

 

“Michael,” he was starting to choke up.

 

The shitty home he lived in with his dad seemed both enormously empty and suffocatingly small. His shirt felt threadbare, overused, and his shorts were frayed at the edges. He was twenty one years old and he was sitting in his tiny dark bedroom staring at a computer screen like it was everything. He was unshowered and his stomach felt hollow and he couldn’t remember the last time he drank something that wasn’t an energy drink and he was _alone_.

 

Ray’s fingers tapped hard across the keys. ‘ _I know I complain too much, sorry’._

 

He watched the time shift away. It had been seventeen minutes since Michael last typed the words ‘everything is okay’ and now they were mocking him. Tears stung his eyes and he grit his teeth, trying to fight them off. A large, anxious swell of pressure was building up between his lungs and threatening to cave in his dry throat.

 

He quickly typed out another message. ‘ _Please don’t leave.’_

 

Twenty minutes now and the pressure was thicker. His nails flicked across the keys but he didn’t type anything out as he breathlessly waited for a reply. He tried to count his breaths and tell himself that his boyfriend was busy, that he was probably in the bathroom or shaving or making food. Hell, someone else might have needed his attention. He wasn’t ignoring Ray, he would never do that. Michael loved him, he said it so often _had_ to believe it. Michael wouldn’t send him funny snapchats and morning kissy faces and gifts in the mail if he didn’t love him.

 

Twenty five minutes and Ray felt the first tear trickle down his cheek.

 

Thirty and he was starting to shake. He hadn’t moved in half an hour except in the nervous petting motion across the keys. What if this was the final time? Ray knew he had pushed it too far, nagged his boyfriend with his constant need for assurance, but he hadn’t thought that the other would be sick of it by now. He thought he had more time until Michael got bored or fed up, it had only been a year and Michael was his _everything_ and what if he was _nothing_ to the other boy besides someone to jerk off to?

 

Ray clenched his eyes shut. _What if I’m not even that? He could be with someone right now. That pretty Lindsay chick he works with...they could be fucking next to the computer right now. Can he even see my messages? Can he hear them?_

 

Was it better if Michael was oblivious to his pleas and screwing someone else or was it worse? _He could just be staring at the screen trying to figure out what to say._

 

Ray’s eyes popped open and he wheezed like he’d been hit in the gut. His mind raced with all the things Michael could reply with, all the things his boyfriend had been aching to say but had been looking for a cop-out.

  
_‘Just don’t talk to me right now.’  
_

_‘_ _Jesus, would you stop it already?’_

_‘I don’t have time for this.’_

_‘I think we should take a break.’_

_‘Listen, I can’t do this anymore.’_  
  


Ray’s vision swam and he was sure he could see all of those words, clear as day and in front of him, but it was still just his small wall of pathetic text.

 

Thirty five minutes and the first sob broke out of his chest. His fingers worked out another slew of gross, overly-emotional words but he didn’t know what else to do. _‘please i love you i’m sorry okay? I won’t complain anymore. I won’t say anything you don’t want to talk about. I just want us to be normal, okay?’_

 

He knocked his glasses off trying to wipe at his eyes and he couldn’t stop another round of tears or disgusting words.

 

_‘I’m sorry I ruined tonight we can do whatever you want okay? I want us to have fun and we wont woryr about my stupid shit. Do you wanna watch a movie?’_

 

He scoffed at how idiotic he sounded and refused to type another word.

 

Forty five minutes.

 

 _‘I could come visit you if you want?? that way w edon’t have to keep doing this skype thing I’m really bad at it i keep saying the wrong things’_ Ray swallowed the bile in the back of his throat. _‘i can come down there and you can fuck me. I know I said I wasn’t into it but I thoguth about it and I really want to’._

 

He shook his head and forced down a gag. The thought of sex - Christ, it was repulsive. He didn’t want to touch anyone like that besides some making out and imagining anyone (even his Michael) to put things inside him was invasive and disgusting. But he would do it to make Michael happy, to fix whatever he’d broken.

 

Fifty minutes.

 

Ray tried not to stare at his mountain of disgusting words. He wanted to delete them but Michael would know. Hell, he’d probably already seen them. Maybe they were laughing, him and Lindsay. Maybe Ray was funny. A weak smile curved his lips. He loved Michael’s laugh. If he made him laugh by being an idiot then that was good enough for him. But he needed _an answer._

 

Slim fingers pet over the keys and eventually they started to dig down, to claw. His nails caught on the sides in a low _clacks_ and then he flexed his hands, heart beating so hard it hurt and lenses stained from his ridiculous tears. What kind of guy cried because his boyfriend hadn’t talked to him in-

 

Fifty five minutes.

 

The keys creaked in protest as his petting became clawing and they started to give. ‘O’ gave first, then ‘W’ and ‘F’ - then his right shift. Ray stared blankly and mumbled “ _please_ ” over and over as he raked up more edges. Little black, labeled squares started to spill into his lap and he didn’t even look down until his finger dug into the sensitive underbelly of an open square. He got a small shock that jolted him out of his stupor.

 

Ray cried out and accidentally flipped his laptop off his lap, cradling his hand to his mouth. His jaw fell as he saw the ruined laptop, dull bronze squares exposed like old fillings. He fanned out his hands and winced when he saw the blood welling up around his cuticles. He must have dragged them on the edges.

 

Thick beads of crimson came up around his index fingers but he didn’t feel anything.

 

Ray jumped up and hurried out of the room, double checking the hallway and living room for his dad before darting to the bathroom. He didn’t bother to turn on the light, he didn’t want to see more than the moonlight allowed. He ran cold water over his hands until they were numb and then kept going, biting his lip. A splash of copper on his tongue brought fresh tears to saturate his lashes and he blinked them away. Water collected in his cupped palm and he rinsed his mouth, spitting out pink from the tear he’d chewed into his lip.

 

He couldn’t look into the mirror. He couldn’t bare it. He didn’t want to see the person Michael didn’t want to talk to. He glanced at the shaving razor on the counter and was struck with a sour thought of how easy it would be to break it apart. His dad had a straight edge in the cabinet. He could just make a few cuts, go on Skype and Michael would see them and he’d _have_ to talk to him then, right?

 

No, that was sick. What the hell was wrong with him?

 

 _What if I just...stopped eating? He’d noticed if I lost weight, right?_ Ray closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts.  _I could get drunk a lot, call him, he’d notice, he’d see that something was wrong._

 

His mouth trembled.

 

_I could show myself off on Skype again, let him see stuff while he jerks off. That wasn’t too bad. Could touch myself or whatever. That’s not a lot, I can stomach it._

 

Ray was proven wrong by the way he dry heaved. He let out a compulsive “ _fuck_ ” before his knees gave out. He rested his head against the bottom cabinet and let his hands ball into fists near his wobbly knees. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t wired like that, he didn’t _want it_.

 

Back in Ray’s bedroom, the raked-over computer _binged_ very softly and a few new messages popped up.

 

_‘fucking asshole neighbor nearly beat down my door complaining about my music. We had to call the landlord and he wouldn’t let me leave his sight. Fucker lives across town!!’_

 

_‘jesus christ, baby, it’s okay shitfuck i should’ve come back in and got my phone. Fuckingfuck god no you don’t have to do anything, and you didn’t ruin anything okay?? You gotta believe me alright? I’m here for you, no matter what, You can talk about whatever you want. I fucking love you, do you know how hard it is for me to love people? I want you to come visit, I think we need it, but you’re not going to do anything you don’t want to. Didn’t we talk about u being ace? What happened to that?’_

 

_‘I’m not going anywhere, Ray, I swear. I’m not leaving you, baby, don’t think that. I’m worried, you’ve got me a little scared. Let me see you?’_

 

The last message came a full minute later.

 

‘ _Answer me’_

 


End file.
